Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2009

Work Work Work

by Line Svendsen

Quick to be dead
and pretend to smile.
Flashes of light,
gonna be here a while.

Strings are attached
to organs of black.
Please, stand still,
and then take a step back.

Tossing the ball
back and forth, unsung.
Black-eyed, silent,
don't speak the Devil's tongue.

Bored to a death
of stressful laughing.
Muscular cramp,
detached from the graphing.

Run away, quick,
soon the clock will melt.
Then learn to swim,
and wear a safety belt.

Added: 19.01.2009